


Fostering Good Relations

by vehlr



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Foster Family, Both Twins Live!, F/M, Foster Care, Loss of Parent(s), Slow Build, mention of trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-20
Updated: 2016-12-01
Packaged: 2018-05-27 19:57:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6298096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vehlr/pseuds/vehlr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Hawke siblings need a loving home. Varric Tethras might not be the conventional choice, but social worker Cassandra Pentaghast cannot deny his heart is in the right place.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“This is not your first time, taking in children?”

Varric shifts in the hard plastic seat, shaking his head. “Got a little one. Dais- _Merrill_ ,” he corrects. “I’ve had her for three years now.”

“Mm. I see a glowing commendation from Mrs Hendyr.”

He smiles slightly. “Yeah? Knew she liked me really.”

“My predecessor recommended you specifically for these children.” The woman looks up from the file, regarding him with a keen stare. “I have to admit, on paper you seem perfect.”

“Thank you.”

“On paper,” she repeats, eyes narrowing. “I am not convinced.”

He leans back, smile dropping. “You don’t think a dwarf -”

“It is not that.”

“What is it, then?”

She hesitates for a moment, before taking off her glasses. “Mister Tethras -”

“Varric.”

“Mister Tethras. The Hawkes are… a unique arrangement, and I have spent the best part of a year trying to find the perfect home for them. What they have been through… they will never forget that, as long as they live. They know they have been robbed of their parents, of that love, and they will bear those scars for the rest of their lives. It will take more than Aveline’s word to persuade me that a single father is the right fit for three children who need a lot of love and patience.”

He swallows, feeling the weight behind her words. This was a woman who was driven, who clearly had an attachment to the children - and the job.

“Miss Pentaghast, can I tell you a story?”

She nods, though the frown lingers.

He leans forward, taking a moment to consider his words. “I didn’t come through the system the same way the kids did, but… the system failed me, too.”

Her eyes widen. He smiles thinly.

“So my mother had a problem…”

*

Cassandra straightens the pin on her lapel, swallowing. Part of her is still surprised that today came, that the Hawke children had agreed to meet with the Tethras family.

That Marian had agreed to it.

She glances at the girl still sat in the passenger seat, eyes fixed on some point in the distance.

“Ready?”

She swallows, before unbuckling. “Let’s get this over with.”

“Marian -”

“Look, I’m doing this for Carver and Bethy. You said he was nice, and I trust you.” She sighs. “Doesn’t mean I trust him yet.”

“I do not expect you to.” Cassandra smiles slightly. “You trust me?”

“Don’t make a big deal out of it,” she mutters. “Let’s go.”

From the back of the van emerge the twins - Carver, tall already for his age, and Bethany, hiding behind him and small fingers tugging on his sleeve. Marian ruffles her hair, smile gentle.

“S’alright, Bethy. Let’s go say hello, yeah?”

Cassandra smiles as the little elf runs out into the front garden. “I believe this is Merrill,” she says by way of introduction.

Carver grins. “She’s tiny.”

“You were that tiny once,” mutters Marian. “Be nice.”

“Hello!” Merrill stops just short of the gate as Cassandra opens it. “Hello! I’m Daisy!”

“Daisy?” Bethany looks to her older sister. “I thought -”

“My real name’s Merrill, but Papae calls me Daisy because I grew like a weed.” She smiles, toothy and bright, and Carver grins.

“Marian says I grew like a weed too. Does that mean I’m a daisy too?”

The little girl laughs, shaking her head. “You’re too tall for a daisy! You’re like a tree!”

That sets Bethany’s giggling off, and Cassandra dares to hope.

In the doorway, Varric looks terrified.

“Mister Tethras, will you join us?” she calls out.

Merrill smiles. “Papae! My new big brother’s a tree!”

“I can see that, Daisy.” He approaches with an easy smile, hands shoved into his pockets. “Hi. I’m Varric. You must be Carver, Bethany and -”

“Hawke. Just call me Hawke.” Marian does not look up.

“Sure. Nice to meet you all. I’ve, uh, I’ve got some snacks inside, if you want to come in. Or we can stand around here and take in the nice weather.”

“Papae, can we give them the cookies?”

He laughs. “Or, we can go inside and eat cookies, which I think gets her vote. What do you think?”

Carver hoists Merrill up onto his shoulders, grinning. “Works for me. Bethy?”

She nods, smile shy but she reaches up to take Merrill’s hand. “‘Lo.”

“Hawke?” asks Cassandra gently. “What would you like to do?”

“I want to stay out here a bit. Is that alright?” She looks to Cassandra, who nods, before offering Varric a nod.

He smiles, leading them through, and Cassandra shoots a glance at the older girl before following them in.

*

Marian watches the neighbours, their comings and goings. It is a different area to where she used to live, which is something of a comfort. She wonders if they had seen the story on the news - the accident that had robbed her of anything normal.

With a heavy sigh, she considers the man - Varric. A man who seemingly wanted to help. Cass had told her that the younger child was adopted, and she had called him Papae - she wonders if he will expect that from them too.

He approaches slowly, after some time. “Hey.”

“She seems like a good kid.”

“Daisy? She’s great. Lucky, in a way. She, uh… she lost her family before she could remember them. She knows, but she doesn’t feel it the same way you do.”

Marian looks up to the sky. “You don’t have to pretend you get it.”

“I’m not going to, trust me. And I’m not gonna be all, ooh poor Hawke children, isn’t it awful, and treat you with kid gloves -”

“Kid gloves?”

“Those white gloves old butlers and historians wear.”

“Oh.” She snorts. “I thought you meant like -”

“Yeah, poor choice of words.” Varric smiles as she lets slip her own small smile, fleeting but there. “Look, this sucks. I know it sucks, and I know you don’t like me, and I’m not asking you to. But I have a roof and food and comfortable beds, and I give a shit about you guys.”

“Did Cass send you out here?”

“Miss Pentaghast? Naah, she’s too busy getting detailed explanations of Daisy’s favourite toys.” He shrugs. “But I know it’s hard for someone like you - someone who’s trying their hardest to look out for other people. I just want to help you look after those two, really - and maybe help you look after yourself, if you’ll let me.”

Marian swallows. “You’re kind of a jerkface,” she says finally. “Using Carver and Bethy against me.”

“Yeah, that’s me.” Varric nudges her arm. “They’re worried about you. Come inside for a little bit?”

“Yeah, yeah.”

She follows him in anyway, smiling at the sight of Cass looking confused as Merrill shows her a series of pictures of her dolls. Behind them, her siblings look settled on the couch, cookies in one hand and milk in the other. Varric’s hand is light on her back.

“Do you want a drink or something?”

“I’m okay.”

“Alright. Just let me know if you do, yeah?” He sidles back over to his seat on the couch, smile broad as Bethany shuffles up to sit next to him. “Hey, Sunshine. Feeling okay?”

“Mmhmm!”

“What about you, Junior?”

“Mmf,” he mumbles around a mouthful of milk.

Varric grins. “Good.”

Marian swallows, before kneeling next to Cass.

“- and this is me and Papae at the beach,” says Merrill. “He doesn’t like the beach but I asked him and asked him and -”

“Did you bury him in the sand?” asks Marian.

She shakes her head.

“Maybe we can gang up on him next time you go, yeah?”

Merrill’s face lights up. “Really?”

She smiles. “Yeah.”

Cassandra smiles slightly. “Truly?” Her voice lowers. “If you need more time -”

“No, I - I trust you.” She swallows. “And they’re happy. Bethy’s giggling. That’s… that’s important.”

“Your happiness is important, too.”

“Mm.”

“You do not need to decide today,” she says again.

Marian bites her lip, before settling next to Merrill. “Tell me about this drawing,” she says.

*

Cassandra corners him in the kitchen.

“Oh, Miss Pentaghast - do you need a top up?”

She smiles. “No, I think it is time for me to leave.”

“Oh, right. I, uh, I guess it’s been a long day.” He puts down the plates. “I’ll come and say goodbye to the kids.”

“Actually…” She tilts her head slightly. “Marian asked if they could stay overnight? Just to see how it is.”

“She did?” Varric feels his chest tighten slightly. “Wow. Really?”

“If that is alright with you, of course -”

“Yeah! Yeah, of course. I’ve got the beds already, and we’re making mac for dinner. I mean, you’re welcome to stay too -”

She laughs. “Thank you, but I have a lot of paperwork to do.”

He smiles. “They really want to stay?”

“It is not a guarantee,” she warns, before relenting. “But… it is a good sign.”

“Yeah. Shit. I really thought she didn’t like us. Daisy talked her ear off.”

“I think she’s rather taken with Merrill.”

“Everyone is.”

She hums agreement, before shifting. “I should go. I will return in the morning.”

“Sure. Give me a call when you’re on your way, and I’ll make sure they’re all dressed.”

“Of course.” She rests a hand on his shoulder. “Relax, Mister Tethras. You have done well today.”

He grins up at her. “It’s not about today, Miss Pentaghast. It’s about tomorrow. Always.”


	2. Chapter 2

Marian calls her a few times in the following weeks - the twins seem to settle quite happily into their new home, but the older Hawke sibling’s heart lingers on a life she cannot go back to. Cassandra, of all people, understands that.

*

Her visit is brief - just an informal catch-up, in truth. But Varric’s smile is a little less genuine, and as the children argue over control of the remote, he beckons her outside.

“Are you good with teenagers, Miss Pentaghast?”

She smiles slightly. “I have my moments. I take it you are struggling with Marian?”

He shrugs. “Yes and no. I think she’s expecting me to pull the rug out from under her, and nothing I say or do can convince her otherwise.”

“Well, she has yet to get to know you very well -”

“She doesn’t _want_ to get to know me! I’ve tried, I’m trying!” He runs a hand through his hair, frowning. “She doesn’t ask questions, she doesn’t want stories, she just nods and gets on with things. And I get that this is still early days and all, but… I thought by now maybe there would be an olive branch.”

Cassandra leans against the doorframe, hands tightening around the coffee cup. “It will take time. She’s still grieving.”

“I know. I know I’m… I’m expecting too much, maybe. I just…”

“You want her to be happy.”

“I want her to feel _safe_.” He sighs, rubbing his neck. “I’m not asking to be her dad, I’m not asking for her to like me. I just want her to realise this is a home - that this will _always_ be a home for her, even if it’s not one that she wants, it’s a safe haven for her.”

“She _knows_ that. Deep in her heart.”

“I hope you’re right.”

“I am, Va- Mister Tethras.” She winces, looking away. She can feel his smile as he turns to face her.

“You _can_ call me Varric, you know.”

“I am aware.”

A shriek pierces the moment, and he sighs again. “Give me a moment. Junior keeps fighting with Sunshine for the remote.” He disappears inside, and Cassandra smiles into her drink.

From inside the house, two emerge.

“I'm just _saying_ , next time you can kick him in the shins -”

“Mari!” Merrill sounds amused, at least. “He's Papae, I can't hurt him!”

“Quite right,” says Cassandra, and the pair jump as if caught.

"Varric's a good papae," Merrill says, only a little hidden behind Marian. “Isn’t he, Miss Dragon Lady?”

“I believe so,” smiles Cassandra. “What about you, Marian?”

She shrugs, and kisses Merrill’s forehead. “Go find Bethy.”

Cassandra watches as Merrill skips off back into the house.

Marian sighs heavily. “I don’t like him,” she says finally.

Cassandra stiffens. “You do not?”

“ _No_. He’s a jerkface.”

At the sullen tone, she relaxes slightly - for a moment, she had been concerned that Marian’s objections had been very real, but she recognises the truth of it. “How so?”

“He makes us eat bad food, and he always smiles like he’s smarter than us, and -”

" _Marian_."

"Hawke. Don't call me Marian."

Cassandra smiles slightly. "Hawke. You know that Mister Tethras is just trying to give your life a little stability, do you not?"

She stares out into the garden. “He doesn’t get it,” she says finally. “He’s trying too hard.”

"He knows what it feels like - to be left behind."

"No he doesn't. _Everyone_ loves him. He’s got loads of friends, it’s _weird._ "

Cassandra shakes her head. "His mother... well. Perhaps you should ask him. But I know one thing about Mister Tethras - he will always be there for you, always."

Marian swallows. "No he won't. Nobody ever is."

*

Still, Marian thinks about it. and waits until dinner to ask.

"Hey, jerkface."

He does not look up. "Name's still Varric."

"What happened with your mom?"

The silence is long, and for a moment she thinks she has made a grave error - _not again, not again, I don't want to move again_ \- but he offers a tired smile and sighs.

"I'll tell you after these three are in bed. Deal?"

"No fair!" yells Carver, “I want to hear about your mom!”

“No you don't, you want to eat your potatoes and then listen to a story about pirates.”

“Yeah!” He wrinkles his nose. “Wait. Do I?”

“Yes,” says Marian, nudging his arm. Varric winks at her, before trying to coax Merrill into another bite of her chicken.

Bethany convinces Marian to help her wash her hair, and by the time Varric gets to their room the younger girl is drifting closer towards sleep, even without a story. Still, she insists on hearing her favourite - a princess who travels around having adventures - and even manages to stay awake for half of it.

Marian watches him as he tucks in her sister, his gentle smile as he kisses her forehead.

“You're good with them,” she says.

“I try.” He shrugs. “I'm good with stories, which helps.”

Varric sits on the edge of the bed, and in the dim light he looks tired. She shifts slightly, starting to regret her choice.

“Miss Pentaghast tell you anything about it?”

“No.”

"Thought so. I just didn't want to repeat anything.” He smiles slightly. “So. I had a mom and dad, once upon a time. Dwarves don't just spring out of the ground, though I know some kids think we do. My mom wasn't very nice. Me and my brother, Bartrand -"

"You have a brother?"

"Had. He's gone now. They're all gone." The smile fades. "Just me."

"What happened to them? Was it an accident like ours?"

"No, no, nothing that bad. My dad died of a heart attack - he was a very dwarfy dwarf, always worked too hard, you know? And mom didn't ever get over that. She drank a lot, and it made her... it made her hard. All edges and anger. My brother took over the family business and I tried to look after her, but... I think she wanted me to fall down there with her. Into the dark.” He swallows again. “When the social worker came to chase up a complaint, we were the very picture of a happy family. Spent most of my teenage years like that, because even though she… didn't like me much, I thought I could change her mind if I made her happy. In the end she died hating me, and the stress probably killed my brother too."

Marian holds his hand, slim fingers wrapping around his. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked."

He pulls her into his arms, kissing her forehead. "It's alright. Not a fun bedtime story, though. Sorry about that.”

"I won't... I won't call you jerkface anymore."

"Better do," he laughs, "I'm just getting used to it."

She chuckles at that, and he lets her go, pulling the blankets over her before cupping her chin.

"Marian? I know this has been hard on you, and I know I'm not... I'm not what you and the twins wanted, but... I'm _trying_ , okay?"

She nods. "I know."

"I'm not - look, I'm not going anywhere. _Ever_. You're stuck with me, alright? So if… if you're angry or upset with me, don't pretend not to be, because that doesn't help anyone. Don't pretend, not ever.”

"Alright." She smiles, finally. "Thanks, Varric.”

He grins. “Any time, kid.”

*

Cassandra meets Marian in the park, a few days later.

"How are things?"

Marian shrugs, legs dangling and brushing the grass. "Better, I guess. He's still a jerkface who keeps making me eat broccoli."

"It is good for you -"

"But he's _our_ jerkface." She smiles. "So I guess that's alright. And he said I could shout at him if I wanted, because he doesn't want us to pretend to be happy." She swings her legs again. “I don't want to shout at him, but it's nice. That he wants us to be happy.”

Cassandra smiles, reaching out to ruffle her hair. "Good. I am glad you feel better about this." She takes a sip of her coffee, watching the twins on the swings.

"So... when are you gonna ask him out?"

Cassandra spits coffee everywhere. “What?”

“You _do_ fancy him, don't you?”

“That is - I am sure that is not appropriate -”

Marian grins. “So you do.”

She can feel the crimson burn of her cheeks. “That,” she says primly, “is none of your concern. My priority is to you three, to make sure you are in a safe and happy environment -”

“You fancy Jerkface,” Marian repeats in a sing-song voice. “I can't wait to tell him.”

“No!” She does not hesitate, grabbing the girl's hand. “You - you cannot. Please.”

“Why not? He likes you too, you know.”

“I know.”

Marian frowns. “So what's the problem?”

Cassandra smiles sadly. “You three. It is a conflict of interests.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means I cannot be with him whilst I am looking out for you. But that is alright. I am rather fond of you, after all.”

“But that's not _fair_.”

She squeezes Marian's hand. “Many things are not, as well you know.”


	3. Chapter 3

It is a whole month before her next visit to the Tethras household, and she does not come alone.

“Miss Pentaghast.” Varric’s smile is broad and warm. “I didn't know Mrs Hendyr was back at work.”

Aveline rolls her eyes. “Varric…”

“Hello, Red.” He pulls her into a tight hug. “How’s Donnic and the littlest one?”

“Don’t remind me. He’s teething.”

“It’s about time Donnic found his fangs,” he teases, and she laughs. “What are you doing here?”

Cassandra steps forward. “She is here because we want to talk to you all about how to move forward. I am stepping down from your family’s case. Aveline will be your new liason officer.”

Varric’s jaw clicks shut, his mouth a thin line. “Right,” he says finally. “Okay.”

“I have talked to Marian already, but I would like to tell Merrill, along with the others, if I may. I know she is aware of Aveline from your previous foster case, but this is still a significant change at her age.”

“Sure.” He turns away, fiddling with something on the counter. “If you think that’s best, sure.”

Cassandra hesitates for a moment, frowning. “Mister Tethras, are you alright?”

“Fine.”

Cassandra looks to Aveline, who beckons her out of the kitchen.

“Give him a moment. He’ll be fine.” She smiles slightly. “Show me these formidable Hawke children…”

*

Merrill cries, but Cassandra promises that she will still be around - with a little hopeful smile of her own, she whispers a secret into the little girl’s ear, leaving her smiling as she wipes the tears away.

She leaves Aveline to fend off Carver’s questions, slipping into the kitchen to find Varric looking miserable. At sight of her, however, he pulls himself together, forcing a smile.

“All done?”

“The children seem to be taking to her well.”

“Daisy loves her. Always has.”

“Are you alright with this?”

He swallows audibly. “Truthfully? No.”

“Whyever not?”

“Look, I know how it works. I know either someone took you off the Hawkes or you _asked_ to be taken off, and if it was the first one you’d be angry. You love those kids as much as I do. So clearly… I mean, _whatever_ it was I did to offend you, I’m sorry. I really am.”

She stares at him for a long moment, before turning away. “Maker, _Varric_ -”

“No, I really am! Look, Miss Pentaghast, I’m not -”

“My name is Cassandra,” she says, laughing, “and you did nothing wrong, I assure you.”

“Then - then why -”

“I… I _like_ you.” She can feel her cheeks heating up. “Ugh, it sounds so juvenile! But it is true. I find myself admiring you more than is appropriate, and I would like to… act on those feelings. Marian reminded me that life is rather short, and that perhaps it would be best to do something about it. So I had to remove myself from the situation.”

Varric stares. “You, uh… you did?”

“Yes.”

“Oh.”

A creeping sense of dread crawls up her spine. “You… you do not feel the same.”

“What? No! I do, I - shit, I _really_ do, okay? I’m just…” He smiles finally, wonderfully. “You gave up something important to you, just for a chance. That’s awe-inspiring.”

“It is not. Not really.”

“Oh?”

“I may not be their liason officer, but I do not intend to leave their lives.” She smiles, looking away. “If things… _progress…_ with you, then I will not have to.”

He whistles, long and low. “Cassandra Pentaghast, that is _very_ forward of you.”

She swallows. “Yes, I suppose it is. I apologise -”

“No no,” he laughs, “I like it. I, uh… I like it a lot.” He steps forward, hesitating for a moment before clearing his throat. “Do you, uh… do you want to get dinner sometime?”

She smiles, nodding. “I would love to.”

He grins. “You like me.”

“Shut up.”

“Gross,” calls Marian from the doorway. Cassandra feels her blush bloom again, but Varric’s smile just widens.

“Aren’t we just.”

*

He is aware, acutely, of how sickeningly happy he is.

"She gave me her number.” He laughs. “Her _actual_ number!"

"You are so _embarrassing_ ," mutters Marian.

"Shut up and eat your spinach, kid." He drops a kiss on Bethany’s crown, almost skipping around the table as the children eat. He looks up at the guest at the end of the table. “I should shave, right?”

Cullen rolls his eyes, a mouthful of pie preventing his retort, but he shakes his head slowly.

“No?”

“Papae, you look like someone else when you shave,” says Merrill, pushing the small pieces of chicken around the plate. “I don't like it.”

“Daisy, eat the meat.”

“I don’t _like_ it.”

“I’m not having you becoming anaemic. Eat the meat.”

“What's an-ee-mic?”

“What you'll be if you don't eat that meat.”

Cullen finally clears his throat. “Merrill has a point. She likes you for you, right? Turn up looking too different and she might not like it.”

Varric strokes his stubble. “Mm. Clearly my wise council are right.”

“Papae, do I _want_ to be an-ee-mic?”

“No, Daisy.”

“Varric, can I -”

“Potatoes, Junior.”

Carver huffs. “I ate _some_ of them!”

“You ate a bite. I'm not blind.”

“That’s some!”

Varric ignores this. "Hey, are you sure you're okay to watch them this evening?"

Cullen smiles. "Sure. What harm can they do?"

"... Curly, seriously?"

Cullen’s face drops at Marian’s cackle. "... I realise my error."

“Uh huh.” Varric claps his shoulder. “I'm gonna find a shirt.” He escapes upstairs, the jolt of nerves suddenly hitting him.

“Hey.” Marian stands silhouetted in the doorway.

“What's up, kid?”

“Here.” She holds up a bunch of flowers. “Take these.”

He hesitates. “Did you steal these?”

“No, jerkface, I liberated them.” She grins, a crooked thing that reminds him a little of his youth. "Don't fuck up."

"Language."

"Yeah, yeah. Oh, and don't put out. First date, have some standards."

Varric frowns. "You are _far_ too young to be telling me that."

“Try and stop me.” She saunters out, and Varric cannot help the soft chuckle that slips past his lips.

*

"He likes you," Merrill says soberly.

Cassandra is early, and the youngest Tethras has corralled her in the garden. Serious eyes too big for her small face are giving her a very considering look.

"Does he?" Cassandra says, straining to ignore her burning ears.

"He danced Bethany around the kitchen last week," Merrill says. She's very cute, Cassandra thinks. Earnest.

"He is. He is happy, then?" Cassandra asks. Perhaps it is unfair of her to be asking a child to tell tales. But... Cassandra's heart flutters at the idea that Varric might be so happy to have dinner.

Merrill nods again.

"Yup, Mari told him he was being gross, and Papae said to wait until she fell in love," Merrill says. "Then he said she wasn't allowed to fall in love until she was thirty."

In love?

Before she can question that thought, the front door opens and Varric strides out.

“You're early - or am I late?”

“No, I am early. If you need a little time -”

“Ah, no, just came to get this one inside. Daisy,” he adds, addressing the girl with a smile, “I hope you haven't told Miss Pentaghast anything incriminating.”

“What's in-crim-nah-”

“Ask Uncle Curly.” He hoists her up into his arms as she shrieks a laugh, kissing her cheek. “Be good for him. He's going to have a hard time with Hawke and Junior as it is.”

“I'm always good, Papae!”

“Yes, you are.”

The scene tugs at Cassandra’s chest, and she has to swallow a strangely pleased noise as he takes the little girl inside, returning almost straightaway with -

“Oh, peonies. How did you know?”

He shrugs awkwardly. “Marian.”

“Thank you, they are wonderful.” Inhaling deep, she smiles, and he mirrors the expression.

“Shall we?”

*

Varric has not been on a date in years. Not out of any sense of duty to the children, but simply because his life had not led him to anyone he had wanted to meet in that light.

But even he is sure that it never felt so… _good_.

She laughs at his jokes, but not the bad ones - there, she pulls a face and makes a noise that might be disgust and might be awfully fond, and he wants to hear that noise more and more. And in turn, her eyes light up each time he puts his fork down in favour of listening - and how could he not? Quite aside from her accent - and Maker, she could make the phone book interesting! - she actually talks about things that engage his interest.

He catches himself leaning in, pulling back sharply, and she raises an eyebrow in query. Varric swallows, settling for honesty.

"I, uh... I really want to kiss you, but I think we should take this slow."

Her hand reaches for his, fingers warm as they spread out over the back of his hand. “Of course.”

“You understand why, right? I’m not - I mean, it’s not just me. It’s me and them.”

“I understand.”

“Of course you do.” He chuckles. “Advantages of dating a social worker. How am I doing?”

“As a father? Wonderfully.”

“And as a date?”

She smiles. “That would be telling.”

*

Varric pulls up to the curb, trying to rein in his disappointment that the evening was over. It had been a memorable one, and he wanted more.

Thankfully, at least, Cassandra seems to feel the same way.

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For tonight.” She smiles. “I had fun.”

He smiles, reaching to squeeze her hand. “Me too.”

She turns to look out the window, and Varric takes a moment to admire her in the orange glow of the streetlight. Strange, to think that when they first met he had not been bowled over by how striking she was in profile, that he had not desired to see every curve of those lips as she smiled, that he had not fallen completely for the woman who now had a claim to his heart.

He swallows, that particular thought both terrifying and warming in turn.

“You should get inside, I can see Merrill in the window. They will be -”

Varric cuts her off, lips pressed gently against hers, and she freezes for half a second before her hand comes up to cradle his face. Shifting in his seat, he tugs her closer, savouring the feel of her lips against his.

They break slowly, reluctantly. Cassandra lingers, her breath warm against his cheek.

“I thought -”

“Most of the things I do are for them, but…” He swallows, resting his nose against hers. “Not that. That was for me.”

“Oh.” She smiles. “Good.”

“Yeah?”

“As a date, yes. Definitely.”


	4. Chapter 4

The best part of this is the awkward look on Varric's face, Marian decides.

It is almost four months, four months of dinner dates and rotating aunts and uncles on Thursday evenings and Varric's doe eyes any time anyone mentions the woman, before she stays over.

"This is Cassandra.”

“We _know_ ,” says Carver, folding his arms. Bethany has clamped her arms around the woman's waist, hugging her tightly.

Varric is _sweating_. Marian smirks. “She's going to, uh... she's going to be staying over sometimes."

Merrill's eyes light up. "Like a sleepover?"

"Sort of."

Marian sighs loudly. " _Gross_."

Bethany looks up with a smile. “I missed you,” she says quietly.

Cassandra smiles, stroking her hair. “And I missed you, my dear Bethany.”

Varric claps his hands together. “Right. Who wants happy pancakes?”

“Me! Me!” Merrill bounces up and down, before rushing off upstairs.

“Yeah!” yells Carver.

“Well, you know the rule. Everyone go and wash up.”

Carver groans, and Marian has to shove him up the stairs as Bethany follows.

_At least they don't kiss in front of us. That's a small blessing_ , thinks Marian as she wipes her face with a cloth, dropping it over Merrill’s head before tickling the little girl and heading back downstairs to claim her seat. Until she walks in on them kissing tenderly in the kitchen, Cassandra's cheeks lightly blushed and Varric's smile evident even from the doorway.

" _Gross._ "

Varric reaches up to cup Cassandra's face, preventing her from pulling away, before flipping the bird at Marian with his other hand.

Marian cannot help the smirk on her face as she shuts the door behind her. Despite the inherent wrongness of two adults locking lips… it is good, she thinks, that they are happy.

*

“Happy pancakes,” explains Varric as he whisks together the mixture, “are _special_.”

“Papae says they're a dwarven secret!” adds Merrill from the table.

“A Tethras family tradition,” continues Carver, spinning his knife around with a finger.

“Because nobody's allowed to be sad at breakfast,” finishes Bethany, with such confidence that Cassandra might have thought it rehearsed.

“Even grumpy almost-teenagers,” says Varric as he nudges Marian, who scowls as she measures out vanilla extract.

“Even jerkfaces and their girlfriends,” she replies.

“ _Especially_ their girlfriends.” Varric beams up at Cassandra.

It is strangely comfortable, she thinks, being here with them all like this. She can barely contain the smile that emanates from her.

“So what is the secret?” she asks.

“Ah, can’t tell you that,” he says. “Too many ears around here.”

“He won’t tell us,” grumbles Carver.

“Like we’d trust you with a hot pan anyway,” points out Marian, and the boy huffs. “Here. Vanilla and chocolate chips.”

“Thanks, kid.” He nudges her back to the table, before pouring a part of the mixture into another bowl. “The secret,” he says in a low voice, “is being happy when you make them.”

“Truly?”

“Well, it’s a big part of it. Can you mix the chips in?” He heats up the pan, humming as he considers the selection of colours. “Blue or purple faces today, guys?”

“Blue!” call out the girls. Carver huffs again, and Cassandra smiles as Varric throws a small measure into the plain mix.

“Alright. Let’s make some magic happen.”

The blue smile and blue eyes hit the pan first, the edges solidifying before Varric drowns them in a round glob of batter and chips, and all the while he hums and smiles, waiting for the perfect moment to flip the pan -

“Ah, there we go.”

Cassandra stares at the happy little pancake, beaming up at her from the pan. “How -”

“Told you,” says Marian, a gleam in her eyes despite her nonchalant lean on the table. “ _Special_.”

*

The argument comes two months later - two months of Cassandra doing her best to keep promises, despite an increase in her workload, two months of the odd night here and there, two months of a reality that makes Varric concerned. And truthfully, the argument - predictably trivial - is not the concern.

“You can’t just brush this off again!”

Cassandra shakes her head sharply. “”I am not -” She stops, taking a moment. “I would not do that. It is important, I know. But I have never lied about the fact that my job comes first much of the time.”

He runs a hand through his hair, pained. "Cassandra, you - you're part of us. This? This here? It's _more_ than just you and me, and it always has been. And I'm all in, okay? I have given you _everything_ that I am, and I need to know that you can do that too, even if it's not right now. I need to know we're gonna make it, because I can't tell the kids - _my_ kids - six months from now that you didn't want this anymore. I can't."

"Varric -"

"Think about it. _Really_ think. Because I'm serious, and I... I love you, and I want to marry you one day, and I want everything that comes with that. But I can't put myself out there right now if you don't think we can make it."

She takes a step back, and he tries not to read into it. Maker, how he tries.

“You… you should go.” He draws in a shaky breath. “Think about things.”

“Varric, I -” She stops herself, mouth a thin line that trembles.

“I know,” he says quietly.

*

Varric is quiet.

And he hates it, hates that he has fucked this up already, hates the looks that Marian shoots at him, hates that this has affected him so deeply. That he had given so much of himself so soon.

“Papae?”

He summons a smile, turning from the pan to regard the youngest. “Yes, Daisy?”

“My pancake looks wrong.”

He swallows. “Sorry, sweetheart. I’ll make you a new one, okay? Extra sprinkles.”

She smiles. “Thank you, Papae!”

The pancake is not happy, even he can see that. Sliding it onto his plate, he takes a deep breath. He hates this feeling in his chest - the vague sorrow of feeling _lost_.

Marian wraps her arms around his neck from behind and squeezes.

"Hey, jerkface.”

“Hey, kid.”

“You know we love you, right? Even if she doesn't."

Something in his chest aches, his hand coming up to squeeze her arm. "Thanks, kid."

*

It is a week before she comes back - a week of picking up the phone every chance she could, of being denied even that connection as another problem at work reared its head. And even as she stands on his doorstep, her heart tugs and frays. _What do you want, Cassandra?_ Such indecision, such hesitation - it was not her way, and yet...

The door opens to reveal four faces, sombre and quiet.

"Uhm. Is your fa- is Varric free?"

Marian folds her arms. "Depends."

"On?"

"On whether you're going to break his heart."

Cassandra swallows. Merrill tugs on her hand.

"Do you love him, Miss Dragon Lady?" she asks quietly.

"Yes."

She smiles then, bright and sweet. "Okay!"

Marian is less convinced. "Lots of people say that and don't mean it." She leans in, scowling. "I learnt how acids affect flesh in chemistry this week, you know." Which Cassandra supposes is meant to be threatening.

“What’s going on -” Varric stops at the sight of her, a flare of panic in his eyes, before he swallows. “Hello.”

“Hi.”

“I’ll, uh - I’ll be right back. You lot, with me.” Varric scoops them all off to bed, and Cassandra lingers by the fire, looking at all the photos on the mantelpiece. One of the twins, covered in paint. One of Merrill, haloed by the sun. One of Marian, a rare smile on her lips. Others still of the four of them, from various good and happy days. Even one that she took, of Varric holding up Merrill’s costume for her very first school play.

But in the middle, pride of place next to the clock, one from only last week - all of them, together, laughing and smiling. His arm around Marian and Cassandra, his smile blessedly soft. Her throat tightens, a noise bubbling in her chest, choked and sad. She cannot lose them all - she understands that now.

“Sorry, they were a bit -” Varric stops at the foot of the stairs. “Hey, what's - what's wrong?"

She looks up at him, managing a weak smile despite the tears coursing down her cheeks. "This. I... I want this."

He glances at the frame in her hands, confused. "A photo?” He swallows, approaching slowly. “You can keep it if you like, but -"

"No," she laughs, putting it back. "What I mean is... what I mean to say is that I am all in, Varric. I want this, with you and everything that comes with that.” She wipes at her face, letting out a shaky sigh. “I love you, and I want to be a part of your life.”

He takes her hands in his. "Really?"

"Yes. I love you, I love the children, I... I cannot think of a worse fate than to be parted from you all."

He smiles up at her, pulling her in close as he reaches up to wipe away the tears. "Well," he points out, "Carver's voice is breaking and I had to give him the birds and the bees talk, so trust me, there _are_ worse fates..."

She laughs again, wrapping her arms around his neck as she hugs him. “I love you,” she says, softer now. “I do. I love you.”

“I love you,” he replies, fingers bunching in her hair. “ _Maker_ , I love you. I missed you so _much_ -”

“Please, do not give up on me. I am _trying_ -” There is something of a desperate tone in her voice, the realisation that he _could_ stop this right now, if he thought it was best. She cannot bear such a thought.

He pulls back, staring up at her. “It’s alright,” he whispers. “It’s alright. We’ll be alright, yeah?” He presses soft lips against her cheeks, kissing away her tears. “We’ll work this out. Work won’t always be so hard, right?”

“I cannot promise that.”

“I know. But I’m saying it anyway. It won’t.” He reaches up to cup her cheek. “We’ll work it out.”

She smiles, closing her eyes and leaning into the warmth of his touch. “I believe you.”

*

Cassandra moves in two months later, just as Bethany starts her period.

"Trial by fire, sweetheart!" Varric says as he kisses her cheek and shoves her into the bathroom.


	5. Chapter 5

The night is dark, and Varric wakes up too soon, a small hand shaking his arm.

“Hm?”

“Papae?”

He blinks blearily in the dark. “Daisy? Did you have a bad dream?”

She nods, and he shuffles under the covers, freeing his arm to scoop her into the bed. Beside him, Cassandra stirs.

Oh.

He had forgotten, in truth, about Daisy’s habit when bad dreams came - she had been blessed with calm sleep ever since Cassandra had moved in. Now Varric did not sleep alone, and he had not thought to warn the woman about the chances of being joined in the night.

But Cassandra opens an eye, leans in to kiss Merrill’s forehead, and drops her head back onto the pillow, a muttered Nevarran phrase on her lips. Merrill, for her part, strokes the woman’s hair - sticking up in a rather adorable fashion - and snuggles into Varric’s side with a happy sigh.

Varric smiles into Merrill’s hair. Normal was quite wonderful, it seemed.

*

Cassandra sits in the front seat of the car, taking a deep breath.

Varric had been somewhat tied up with his publisher when the call from the school had come through, so it fell to Cassandra to sort through the mess. All she knew was that Carver was in a lot of trouble, and that was not a good sign.

She straighten her back. Well, whatever it was, she would make sure the best solution came out. Expulsion at his age was a terrible idea, and yet she had a horrible feeling that the school would push for it - it was always the easiest option for keeping a troubled student from affecting the rest of the group.

She heads straight in, smiling at the receptionist as she passes. Carver sits outside the headmaster’s office with another boy, his eyes red and his shoulders slumped. Kneeling in front of him, she offers a smile.

He swallows. “It’s not my fault,” he whispers. “It’s not. He was saying things to Bethy -”

She reaches up to brush his hair back. “It is alright,” she murmurs. “Are you hurt at all?”

“No.”

“But angry, yes?” At the jerk of his head, she straightens, kissing his forehead. “It is alright,” she repeats. “I am here.”

“Excuse me, Miss…?” The receptionist blinks up at her.

“Pentaghast. Cassandra Pentaghast, here regarding Carver Hawke.”

The headmaster beckons her in, offering her a seat.

“We were expecting Mr Tethras,” he rumbles. “I was just saying to Mrs Trevelyan here that -”

“Varric Tethras is at present unable to join us, but I assure you I am more than capable of handling this situation. Mrs Trevelyan, wonderful to meet you, I am Cassandra Pentaghast.” She shakes the woman’s hand.

The headmaster blinks. “Miss Pentaghast, whilst we appreciate -”

“I am not a formal member of the Tethras family, but I am one of the state-appointed legal caretakers of their family, and as a result I am free to take Mr Tethras’ stead in this discussion,” she says with a hint of a challenge in her voice. “Now. What is the issue here?”

The headmaster sighs, before gesturing to the boy sat outside his office window. “Carver Hawke started brawling with the youngest of the Trevelyan boys. Maxwell, isn’t it?”

Cassandra considers this for a long moment as the matriarch of the prestigious Trevelyan family nods. Carver could be quick to shout, hotheaded at times… but violence?

“Now, exclusion for a number of weeks is the usual -”

“Why?” she asks.

“Why what?”

“Why did he strike Maxwell? I assume you did ask him.”

“He said it had something to do with his sister.”

“Bethany?” Here Cassandra’s eyes narrow. “And did you follow this up by talking to Maxwell or Bethany?”

The headmaster bristles. “Of course we did. It was a lot of nonsense -”

“It is rarely nonsense,” she cuts in, “when children who have shown no predisposition to violence suddenly hit another child. What happened?”

“Maxwell said something about the family unit, it seems. He says he was simply making a joke -”

“Did he know,” says Maxwell’s mother in a cutting voice. Cassandra warms to her suddenly. “Strange how you left that out of the telephone conversation we had prior to this meeting.”

“It was not pertinent -”

“It is pertinent when my son is bullying a girl,” she says sharply. “Where was the teacher during this exchange?”

“And what exactly was this ‘joke’?” asks Cassandra, “that the teacher let slide? Surely the faculty are aware of their situation -”

“Look,” says the headmaster, his frustration bubbling over. “It is not the job of the teaching staff here to -”

“To ensure the welfare of all the students? Sir, I may not be a teacher, but I am assured in what your role is for these children.”

“That is not -”

“So you truly mean to tell me,” she says, voice measured and calm, “that you wish to remove Carver from his lessons as punishment for defending his sister from a verbal attack that should have been dealt with by one of your teachers?”

Beside her, Mrs Trevelyan adds her own dark glare, and the headmaster’s mouth begins to stammer out what might have been a cohesive response. However, Cassandra’s back straightens, and she leans forward.

“How about we consider an alternative solution?”

*

“You should have _heard_ them, Varric! It was appalling!”

The line crackles, but she can hear his chuckle nonetheless. “Only you,” he sighs, “could institute a complete reform of the education system in a day.”

“It is not a -”

“I just got the email from the PTA. They’re taking all the kids off timetable for three days.”

She swallows. “Three?”

“They’re spending three whole days talking about what makes our differences special. They want volunteers to come in and talk to the kids.”

“Oh.”

“I said we’d help out.”

“We?”

“Well, way I see it, most kids don’t know about foster families. You can explain to them what it’s all about, why people do it, how it helps -”

“And you will just sit back and crack jokes?”

She can hear his grin. “Probably. Ostensibly I’ll be there to show them that it doesn’t matter what race you are, you can be a family with anyone you choose. Helps that I’ll be stood with my four kids and my gorgeous girlfriend.”

“You will bring Merrill?”

“Of course. She’s off that week anyway. Aren't you, Daisy?” In the background, the youngest can be heard chattering away, and Cassandra smiles into the receiver, listening as Merrill tells them about the upcoming holiday from her classes.

“Are they with you?” Varric asks.

“In the car. All three of them. We will be taking a detour to the Trevelyan boy’s house, so that Carver may apologise and we can put this behind us.”

“Sounds fair. Maybe get Sunshine some ice cream, after the day she’s had.”

“My thoughts precisely.”

“And maybe fetch home some ice cream for your adoring boyfriend before he has to head into the city?”

“And me!” chimes in Merrill.

“You are leaving tonight? So soon?”

“Yeah, not exactly ideal, but after the amount of weight I had to use on ‘em this afternoon it’s the best case scenario. You’ll be alright with them for a night, though, right?”

“Of course. I am just not sure I will be alright without you for a night.”

“Flatterer,” he drawls.

She smiles. “I love you.”

“Love you too, sweetheart. Now bring us ice cream! Please,” he adds, as in the background Merrill admonishes him.

“I will see what I can do.” She hangs up, shaking her head slightly before taking a deep breath. Opening the driver’s door, she slips back into the car.

The silence is deafening.

She looks over at Hawke. “What is wrong?”

“Is he mad?” asks Bethany from the back in a quiet voice.

Cassandra turns in her seat to find all three Hawkes looking terrified. She smiles, shaking her head.

“Not at all. And neither am I - not at any of you.”

“But I hit someone,” says Carver quietly.

“And you will be apologising to that child,” she says, “because that was wrong. But that you were pushed so far is not your fault, and I am upset that the teacher let that situation happen. Do you understand?”

“So it's the teacher’s fault, not Carvers?” asks Marian.

“It was Carver’s choice to hit that child, but the teacher should have been aware of why he chose that. What was said about Bethany is just as unacceptable as the punch.”

“So… I'm not in trouble?” says the boy dubiously.

Cassandra smiles slightly. “You are in _some_ trouble.”

He sinks into the seat.

“So what now?” asks Marian, trepidation still all over her face.

Cassandra reaches for her hand, squeezing gently. “We are going to visit the Trevelyans -”

Carver groans loudly.

“- where we will make peace and apologise, and then we will see about lifting everyone’s mood somewhat.” She winks at the eldest. “With ice cream.”

Bethany lurches forward, eyes wide. “Really?”

“Yes, darling. Lean back and put your seatbelt on, please.”

Carver leans closer on her other side, hand light on her shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he says quietly. “I didn’t -”

“I know.” She reaches up to squeeze his hand. “One true apology, and then ice cream. And perhaps a few stories about my brother, and the things I did in his defence…”

*

The night is dark, and Merrill wakes up too soon, the nightmares creeping on her. Without a second thought, she scrambles from her bed, padding down the hallway to Papae’s room, and reaches to shake his arm.

Cassandra mumbles something that sounds like words but are not any Merrill knows, and for a moment she almost bolts, realising her mistake - Papae was away tonight, a meeting in the city about his book, and she had woken the dragon lady by accident. This, Merrill thinks, is Bad. She steps back, swallowing loudly. She does not want to sleep alone, but she should not have woken the dragon lady. Maybe Mari would -

But Cassandra frees her other arm from the blankets and picks Merrill up. She mumbles the not-word words again and tucks Merrill beneath her chin, curling around her. Her heart beats slow and steady in Merrill's ear. It is cosy. _Like what having a mamae feels like,_ Merrill thinks sleepily as the warmth lulls her back into the quiet haze of sleep.


	6. Chapter 6

The bickering between Junior and the eldest Hawke is audible.

“Anyone who's anyone knows that a dragon would win. Don't be _stupid_.”

“I'm not stupid!”

“You're a _bit_ stupid, Carv.”

“Both of you,” warns Cassandra, “stop it.”

“I didn’t do anything!”

“Carver.”

He huffs, arms folded over the blankets as Cassandra switches off the lights. Varric chuckles.

“He looks more and more like her every day.”

“Don’t say that,” groans Marian. “I knew you hated me really.”

“Hush, now.” Cassandra drops a kiss against Bethany’s forehead before hitting their lights next. “Sweet dreams, all of you.”

Varric smiles up at her. “Tea?”

“Thank you.” She bumps against his shoulder as she heads down the stairs, and he follows her through to the couch, lingering before he goes to find the kettle.

Varric had never expected this. Love, in all its forms, had been easy to give and difficult to keep. He had loved his mother, honestly, but her actions had been devoid of the feeling. Bartrand, too, had been unable to express the emotion despite Varric’s warmth-laced encouragement. It had been a long time since any romantic entanglements - far too long, he had realised, heart jumping simply at the thought of Cassandra - but even those had been more give and less take.

And then Daisy had fallen into his life, followed by the Hawkes and one exceptional Miss Pentaghast, and now…

_Shit_ , thinks Varric, _I will never know a day of sorrow again._ And that is a thought that damn near makes him ache with the joy of it all.

Shuffling back into the lounge, he settles next to her.

“Hey,” he says softly.

Cassandra looks up from the crossword with a slight frown across her brow that clears at the sight of him. “Yes?”

“Will you marry me?”

The pen drops from her grip. “Oh.” She laughs. “Oh, goodness.”

“Is that a yes? I mean, I could go and get the ring and clear the kids out and get down on one knee, but -”

Her hand reaches for his, warm and trembling despite her confident smile. “This is better,” she whispers.

He brings her fingers to his lips, tender kisses against her knuckles. “I have a ring. Upstairs.”

“Of that, I have no doubt.”

“I was going to do it next week. Date night. I booked a table at leChau’s -”

“Our first date.”

“- and then a walk down the river, and an empty bandstand, and I got my suit dry-cleaned and everything.” He chuckles as she slides over to him, fitting underneath his arm with practised ease. “But I just… I feel really happy, sweetheart. And I wanted to do it now.”

She smiles as she nuzzles against his cheek. “I love you,” she whispers. “I love you so much, and everything you have built here… this family that you brought together and made whole… I cannot believe how blessed I am to be a part of it.”

His throat tightens, He wants to tell her how important her presence is, how much he needs her, how blessed he is by her, but he cannot quite trust himself to say it aloud. Not tonight. Instead, he falls back on old habits, a smirk spreading across his lips.

“Is that a yes?” he teases. “Because you still haven’t -”

She reaches up to cup his cheek, smiling brightly as she pulls him into a solid kiss.

 

*

 

Time passes, and Cassandra is late.

Cassandra is _late_ , which makes her pancakes less than impressive.

“Is this a _happy_ pancake?” asks Carver, doubt evident in his voice.

“I’d say… fretful. Which is in itself a very impressive skill,” admits Marian with a laugh.

“I am sorry. I will make you a new one.”

Not the kind of late that meant her day was off - no, the kind of late that meant… well. It could mean that she was ill, or it could mean that she was -

Varric’s hand is warm at the small of her back. "You okay, sweetheart?"

"Yes! Yes, just... work." Work was always a good excuse, the sensitive information impossible to talk about, but she feels a pang of guilt as he nods and leaves her to it.

She is worrying for nothing, she decides firmly, flipping the next pancake with vigour. Her period is not due for another week anyway, and stress would only delay it further. Best to push it from her mind.

She could manage that, surely.

 

*

 

Marian is surprised when she finds Cassandra home - she usually worked longer hours on days when Varric was available to pick up Merrill. With his car absent from the drive, Marian had assumed the late afternoon was her own.

But Cassandra is sat in the front room, head in her hands and a strange noise coming from her. Marian has never heard the woman cry before, and as she drops her bag to the floor and crosses the room, she hopes she never has to again.

“Shit,” she mutters, “what did he do?”

Cassandra looks up, her face as surprised as Marian feels, before wiping her face. “No. It is nothing. Just stress.”

“What did he do?”

“Nothing. Varric did nothing, it is -”

“Cassandra -”

“I might be pregnant,” she says, and that silences them both. Marian swallows at the sight of her eyes widening, the fear and panic setting in.

“Oh,” she says quietly.

“Yes.”

“You - you have a test?”

“I - yes.”

Marian takes her hands, hauling her up to her feet. “Alright. Come on.”

“What -”

With little ceremony, she shoves her into the bathroom. “Tell me when you’re done.”

It is hard, she realises in the quiet, to decide whether she would be happy. Because that is _their_ baby - completely theirs, they made it together - _ugh,_ says a small part of her brain, _don’t dwell on that thought_ \- and it would be more family than any of the rest of them. And the thought, unwanted, comes to her as Cassandra beckons her in.

_What if they don't want us anymore?_

What if they had the baby and... that was it? _After all,_ points out her treacherous brain, _it's "and baby makes three" not "and baby makes seven”._ Her stomach rolls, and she presses her temple against the cool tiles, watching the woman who had become impossibly important to her.

 

*

 

She can feel Marian's eyes boring into the side of her head, but whenever Cassandra tries to catch her eye, Marian is pointedly looking at the test strip. It is wretched, this silence between them. She valued Marian’s honesty and openness, a trait that had only become emboldened with the time spent under Varric’s care.

"Marian?"

"Mm?"

"Do you - I mean, would you want another sibling? If it is positive, I mean."

Marian blinks. "Uhm. Yeah, I guess."

Cassandra swallows. "I mean - if it is not, then it is not. But... perhaps one day in the future, it might be positive."

"You want a baby?"

"I do not know."

Marian sighs, re-folding her arms, shoulders hunched. "You _should_ know. It's kind of a big thing to be unsure about."

"It is… complicated."

"Everything is."

"This is… moreso." She reaches out to brush the girl's hair from her face. "I am happy, truly, to be your legal guardian - to have all of you in my life. If that is all I am to be, that would be enough."

"You're -" Marian's voice cracks, and she stops, looking away.

"But I have often wondered if I could be a good mother, too. To younger children. And if - I mean, if Varric wanted to, I think I would like to see." She smiles. "But not if it upsets any of you."

Marian blinks rapidly.

"Marian?"

"You are -" She swallows again. "You _are_ a good mother. You're… you’re our mother. _My_ mother."

Cassandra's heart swells, her own tears coming now. "Oh."

"I mean, sure, have a kid, but -"

Cassandra pulls her into a tight hug. "You are going to be a wonderful young woman," she whispers.

Marian buries her face into her neck, hugging back tightly. "Shut up," she mumbles. "Have a baby. But _I'm_ not gonna look after it when it's crying at 3am."

Cassandra laughs, stroking her back. "I am afraid you will, my darling," she says softly, "because you are not going anywhere, and babies are quite loud."

"I'll run away."

"Like _hell_ you will."

They part, just far enough for their eyes to meet, and Cassandra cups her face.

"Like hell," she repeats.

"Cass?"

"Yes?"

"The, uh... the test is done."

The comforting warmth of their affirmations vanishes in the wake of her statement, and Cassandra feels the panic start to rise again. “Oh.”

"Well, _I'm_ not touching it," says Marian. "You peed on it."

"Marian!"

"Just look at the thing so we can finish this whole emotional moment, please?"

Her hands are shaking. Everything is slightly too loud, too bright. But Marian is with her, and that is a comfort.

The girl reaches for her arm, fingers tentative. "Well?"

"... no." She holds it up. "Nothing."

Marian swallows. "Oh. But you'll... you're gonna try, right? For real, yeah?"

"Perhaps." She smiles weakly. "I am hardly young."

"I'm sorry."

"It was not meant to be. That is all." She tosses it into the bin, before straightening up, smiling. Her chest is full of love. It is enough, and she feels it. "Like I said. I have all of you, and that is a gift."

Marian rests her chin on Cassandra's shoulder. "We love you."

"And I love you, my darling." She kisses her cheek, before motioning to the door. "We should go, Varric will be terrified."

Varric, predictably, is pacing a hole into the carpet when they finally emerge.

“You’re alright! You are alright, aren’t you? What were you two doing in there? You were ages, I thought -"

Cassandra rests her hands on his shoulders to silence him, smiling down at him kindly. "Nothing, my love."

Marian pokes her head over Cassandra’s shoulder again. "She thought she might be pregnant, that's all."

“Marian!” But she laughs, despite herself.

Varric gapes. Cassandra, despite the amusement that bubbles up at his eyes practically falling out of his head, is a little worried he might be having a heart attack.

Marian smiles. "Love you,” she says, kissing her cheek before leaving them to it. Varric’s jaw finally closes.

"Varric? Are you alright?"

"... yeah. No.” He looks up at her, sighing. “I don't know?"

"I feel rather the same, my love"

"Are you? Pregnant, I mean."

"No."

"Oh."

"Quite."

His arm comes around her waist. “We’ve never really… had that chat, have we?”

“No. But I never felt the need to. It was never really a thought until now.” She takes the offered strength, smiles again as his arm squeezes gently. “Marian helped. I do not need to - that is, it would not complete me in the way it does other women. I have my children, and my future husband, and my work -”

“And all your children there,” points out Varric. “They’re all yours, too. You help them all.”

“Yes.”

“So you… don’t want to try?”

“Do you, my love?”

He considers this for a long moment, before shaking his head. “This is more than I ever thought I could have,” he admits. “If it happened, sure, but… I don’t think we need to try.”

She kisses him, soft and tender, heart fit to burst with love. “Then we are happy?”

“Yeah,” he says, smiling against her lips. “We are.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alternative ending:
> 
> “You bought the generic brand?”  
> “Do not sass talk me, Varric Tethras.”  
> “No wonder it gave you the wrong result!”  
> “Varric.”  
> “Those things’ll give you a - hey hey, put down that wine glass!”  
> “It is sparkling water, Varric, do not presume -”  
> “Alright. Hey.”  
> “What?”  
> “Are we really doing this? Five kids?”  
> “You are smiling, so I assume that is a rhetorical question.”  
> “I know, I just -”  
> “Varric.”  
> “What?”  
> “I love you.”  
> “I love you too, sweetheart.”  
> “Good. Then we are happy?”  
> “Yeah, we are.”
> 
> ***
> 
> With special thanks to OrilliaOrange, who wrote all the good dialogue and nailed the littlest Tethras's voice. Thank you for this story.


End file.
